


even when i lose my head

by CrypticVirago



Series: heart made of glass (mind of stone) [11]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A small one, Connor and Gavin also have a heart to heart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, They’re both sweet, do androids dream of electric sheep?, gavin is there to comfort him, gavin loves Nines, nines has a nightmare, no but they do have nightmares about their handler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticVirago/pseuds/CrypticVirago
Summary: Gavin didn’t know androids could sleep. He also didn’t know androids could dream. So when Nines has a nightmare, he’s a little unprepared.But Nines was there for him. And he’ll be there for Nines.Because that’s how love works.





	even when i lose my head

**Author's Note:**

> So to make a long story short, the reason this is a bit late (relative to other upload dates) is because my computer died. 
> 
> Straight up, flat out died. 
> 
> I had about 4 more parts of this written out but it crashed and the data isn’t recoverable. Whoops. Jokes on me for not uploading the next four onto my flash drive. 
> 
> Anyway. This one has been written and edited on my phone in the meantime. If there are spelling or grammar errors, that’s probably why.

_There’s bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway_

_And if you have nightmares, we’ll dance on the bed_

_I know that you love me, love me_

_Even when I lose my head_

 

* * *

It was really fucking weird, Gavin thinks, waking up in a bed with someone again.

In the past six years, all he’d had was a few one night stands. They’d always come to his place, they’d be gone once he woke up. It was easier that way. Maybe if he didn’t see them in the morning he could forget that they were there. Could forget about what he’d done because he was drunk or high or both. It always made him feel so damn guilty, like the ghost of Brendon was still hanging over his shoulder, angry that Gavin was (albeit badly) trying to move on.

But it had always been easier, he argued, to sleep with someone else in his bed. It was easier when there was another source of heat outside of his own, when there was a body to roll up against, when there was someone to hold him. It made him feel much safer, especially when nightmares came knocking against the door to his bedroom.

The night that Nines had come over, after Gavin had broken down thinking that Nines had been shot, that he was dying, Gavin had never slept better. Despite being rudely awakened, despite the hour it had taken to fall back asleep, he woke up feeling not quite like shit. In need of a shower maybe, but not quite like shit.

It had taken him a while to request that Nines spend the night with him. It had felt ridiculous to ask - childish, like he was a middle schooler asking to have a sleepover. And it had only taken a second for Gavin to hear the underlying message that he hadn’t meant for - he didn’t want it for sex either. They hadn’t got there yet. Not yet. He just wanted a fucking good nights sleep.

Gavin had felt insecure about it - had thought that maybe Nines didn’t want to come or had thought that asking him here would be an inconvenience to his partner. He’d called Nines, told him to not worry about it, that Binx would surely get into something while he was gone. The kitten had made a remarkable recovery since they’d brought him home from the vet. Water and food and a brush had gone a long way for the little thing. It tried to use Nines’ finger as a teething ring, and it would attack his feet whenever Nines would walk through the apartment. Nines didn’t have much to do while he was at home, so most of his effort was put into giving the kitten as much attention as it desired. He spoiled the damn thing. Even if he had gotten Binx a cat tower and a bed of his very own, the kitten demanded to sleep right on top of Nines.

On his chest, too. Right on top of his thirium pump. On top of his heart.

Nines had dismissed Gavin’s excuses entirely. Binx was a kitten yes, but cats were known for their self reliance, their independence. He would be fine for the night alone, provided food, water and toys were easily accessible.

So Nines came anyway, had come and laid down with Gavin.

At first it had been really fucking awkward. And god, Gavin didn’t know fucking why. They had long moved past the point of having awkward silences between the two of them. Gavin has rarely been so comfortable with someone else that he could exist solely in silence - didn’t have to speak to fill the void. But for some reason, laying in bed beside Nines was really... awkward.

Because hell, he imagined this kind of thing at some point sure, but that would have probably been after they’d fucked or something. Admittedly in the beginning he’d pegged for something like a fuck buddy arrangement but that went out the window very, very quickly.

But it was nice, he had to admit. To have someone there. To be able to feel Nines’ warmth beneath his blankets and, once he worked up the nerve to do so, to be close to it. It was so nice to be able to snuggle up against Nines’ chest, to get his hands dug into the soft fabric of his shirt. To have Nines’ arms wrap around him, to hold him and help him feel so safe, so cared for. And like that, it really hadn’t taken Gavin that long to fall asleep. He just kinda hoped that he didn’t end up drooling against Nines’ shirt.

Gavin wasn’t quite sure why, but at some point he’d woken up again.

He hadn’t thought androids could sleep. But here he was, being proven wrong.

Nines was asleep. Asleep, right in front of him, and it made every part of Gavin freeze despite how much he wanted to roll over and check the time. Nines’ arm was still slung around his waist, hanging and not holding. His other arm was beneath Gavin’s head, under the pillow. If Nines were human, Gavin thinks, it probably would have gone numb. Nines’ breathing is intermittent, hardly there at all - predictable, Gavin thinks. Androids really only breathed for two reasons - one, for naturalistic copying of human behavior and two, to cool themselves. Like a ventilation system, because they didn’t have any big exhaust ports in their bodies. If Nines began overheating, he would pant to get rid of the hot air and exchange it for some that was cool. At least, that’s how Nines had explained it because apparently, cooling systems needed a bit of support.

Barely breathing, sparse breath only noticeable as warm air escaped the gap in his lips. Lips that were parted just enough that Gavin could see the barest hint of white teeth beyond them. Nines LED circled a slow, repetitive blue - like a buffering circle, Gavin thinks.

It’s so weird to see this. To see Nines sleeping when Gavin didn’t even know that was a thing that androids could do. It’s weird to see but he can’t take his eyes off of him. It’s dark out, but the light that comes through the open window - and the fact that his eyes are well adjusted - lets him see just enough. Let’s him count the sparse freckles scattered across Nines’ face (20, he counts, but knows he’s missing some because half of Nines’ cheek is against the pillow case). Let’s him examine the line of his lips, lips that Gavin wants to kiss but doesn’t dare move because he’s never seen Nines like this before, and wants it all to last just a little bit longer.

He sees a brief flicker of movement. Sees Nines’ eyes move below their lids and that makes him begin to wonder. Did androids dream? What kind of things did Nines dream of? Gavin, selfishly, hopes that Nines dreams of him.

Gavin’s able to lay like that for a good while. He’s shit at estimating time and would never be able to say how long. But at a certain point, the slow spinning blue of Nines’ LED flashes yellow. The color is alarming and unwelcome in the room, and the longer his LED stays this color, the more Gavin begins to worry.

Nines lips press together. His eyebrows crease just the slightest bit before relaxing again. His LED is still yellow.

Maybe he was just doing self scans in his sleep. Gavin has seen him do self scans before - diagnostics as Nines reminded him. Each time, Nines would get an unfocused look, his LED would shift to yellow, linger there until Nines blinked, and all would be normal once more. Yeah. Maybe that was it. Gavin can almost convince himself that that’s exactly what’s going on.

Or at least, until Nines’ LED turns red. That red, that dreaded, hated red. The red that Gavin hated to see in both his dreams and the waking world.

Gavin feels Nines tense in front of him, almost like he was flinching, like he was preparing to be hit. Sees Nines’ jaw clench, sees him bare the slightest hint of teeth, watches the crease in between his eyebrows form and remain.

A nightmare. That’s what this was.

Maybe androids _could_ dream.

Gavin picks himself up on his elbow, his other arm reaching to grip at Nines’ shoulder. “Hey Nines,” he coaxes, gently shaking his partner. He speaks a bit louder, shakes a bit harder. “Nines, wake up.” No response. No physical movement, no change in the LED.

 _Gavin, I’m scared_.

No. Fuck that. Not right now.

“Nines, baby, please.”

Gavin doesn’t give the pet name credit for doing shit. Nines’ eyes snap open and he hisses in breath through his clenched teeth. Even despite actually waking him up, Nines doesn’t move. He remains rigid, his jaw stays tense and his teeth stay grinding into each other. His LED stays red. A bright cherry red that Gavin tries to ignore. He just stares, stares at Gavin’s chest, unblinking and it’s kind of freaking Gavin out. “Nines?” Gavin prods gently, opting to squeeze Nines’ shoulder instead of shaking him anymore. The sound of his name seemed to have worked a little bit - he goes from staring at Gavin chest to staring him right in the eyes.

And Gavin almost wants to cry.

Nines looks fucking _terrified_.

Before Gavin can ask what’s wrong, can ask if he’s okay, Nines bolts upright, throwing the covers off of him. His LED is still red, and it bathed the room in a dim red light that makes Gavin feel wholly uneasy. Nines scans the room, from one corner to the other, but still stands. Gavin watches, confused and more than a little worried, as Nines opens his closet door, peering inside for untold seconds. Without saying anything, he leaves. Makes a beeline directly for the bedroom door and hightails it around the corner.

Gavin scrambles to get out of bed, kicking off the covers that somehow get more twisted around his legs. When he cuts into the hallway, he almost runs into the linen closet door that’s been left open, and curses as he kicks it closed. Nines has made it to the living room by the time Gavin’s caught up, LED still red, still sweeping the room like he’s looking for something.

What the hell could he be looking for? What the fuck would have woken him up and left him frantically sweeping their house like he was a damn SWAT officer? Gavin boils down his conclusions quickly - assumes it’s a nightmare. That or someone or something is actually in here, and Nines just sensed it in his sleep or something. ...he likes the sound of the first option much more.

When he comes to this conclusion, Nines almost bonelessly sinks into the couch. And then, only then, does his LED go yellow.

“Nines?” Gavin starts, and is ashamed at the hoarse squeak of his voice. He coughs, clears his throat and tries again. “Nines, hey talk to me.” Gavin crosses the space between them in a few short steps, sitting down next to him on the couch and reaching for his hand. He twines their fingers together, gripping Nines’ hand tightly. “Nines, what’s happening, tell me.”

Nines’ body remains tense. Gavin grabs him and pulls him tightly against his chest, running his fingers through his hair and the other hand rubbing up and down his back. The thought occurs to him that maybe he should give Nines some space - maybe suffocating him wasn’t the greatest of ideas. Maybe this would only make things worse.

But before he can rethink too far, before he actually pulls himself away from Nines, Nines is fisting a hand into his shirt. He grips it so tightly that Gavin is a little worried that it’ll rip or stretch the fabric. It takes five minutes before Nines actually speaks, and even when it does, it feels like Nines is more or less talking to himself.

“She isn’t here,” he whispers, and it’s in a voice so uncharacteristically weak that Gavin can almost believe this isn’t actually Nines. “She isn’t here, she _can’t_ be.”

“Who? Who isn’t here?” Gavin prods gently, settling his hand against the back of Nines’ neck. Truth be told, this is actually freaking him out. He’s never known Nines to be this… this vulnerable. Sure Nines was one of those weirdly emotionally open types – the kind that wears his heart on his sleeve once. This… this wasn’t like Nines. Nines wasn’t overtly emotional, he didn’t do well under the guise of vulnerability.

Sometimes Nines just says the darnedest things.

“It’s okay,” he mutters, as though Gavin was the one that needed comforting. Like he was the one having a freak out moment. He pushes at where he was previously clinging to Gavin’s shirt. “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

And Gavin wasn’t having that. “No way.” He lets Nines push against him, lets him get far enough up to grab his face and hold him still. “What’s wrong?” Nines looks… tired. Weary. He’s never seen Nines like this either. The red and yellow swirl of his LED just reaffirms that he isn’t as fine as he claims. Nines can’t look at him – he glances to the side, and Gavin can tell another half-assed excuse is about to come out of his mouth. “Nines, baby,” he hums softly, voice remaining firm throughout. “Talk to me. Please.” He leans forward, kisses Nines between his eyebrows, against the crease that had formed and stubbornly remains.

“It’s hard to explain…” Nines tries weakly.

“I’m smart. I can follow.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Does that really matter?”

“You’ll be tired tomorrow…”

“Then you can just make me some coffee,” Gavin points out with a small smirk. “Like you always do.” Nines seemingly relents, tense shoulders sagging. Even so, it takes him a good while to figure out where to start. Gavin waits, patiently. More patience than he’s expressed in a long while.

“Connor and I we had a… a handler,” Nines begins, and Gavin can’t tell if the quiver in his voice is real or imaginary. “Someone we could speak to about the progress of our cases, someone that could assess our performance. Someone that could… ensure that I didn’t begin to walk down the path of deviancy.” Nines pauses here, and Gavin doesn’t know if he wants him to say something. Either way, he remains silent. All he does is take Nines’ hands in his, pulling them into his lap, and squeezing them tight. “Before I deviated all I wanted to do was make her proud of me. And now I… I don’t usually… _fuck_.”

Gavin’s surprise at the curse is overshadowed by the worry at the red flash of his LED that accompanies it. “It’s okay,” he hums quietly. He rubs the pad of his thumbs firmly into the back of Nines’ palms. He can see Nines struggling, thinks that he’s struggling to find words. And that’s not usual. That isn’t his Nines. “You don’t gotta tell me,” he assures. “Just… know that you’re okay. We’re both okay. Nobody’s in here. And nobody’s gonna be. Do you want me to get some deadbolts? Electric locks ain’t got shit on deadbolts.”

His attempt at reassurance seemed to work, if only a little. “No, it’s fine,” Nines insists. “I’m just overreacting.”

“You’re not overreacting.” He scoffs. “Nines you remember a few weeks ago, yeah? When I literally forced you to come here because of the same shit?”

“That’s different,” Nines argues weakly.

“How? Tell me how that’s different.” Nines remains silent. “Exactly. That’s the thing about relationships, right? You know, unconditional support and all that shit. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours, kumbaya around a campfire shit.”

That gets Nines to crack a smile. The harsh yellow of his LED calms to a pastel, to something softer. “You have a brilliant way with words, Gav.”

 _Gav_. Fuck, his heart definitely didn’t jump at that.

“Hey, I can’t be a walking, talking thesaurus with a computer brain, now can I?” he jests, hoping it’s dark enough that Nines can’t see the flush on his cheeks. The only light comes from the surface light of the stove, one that Gavin leaves on every night so – in the instance of waking and needing something to drink – he doesn’t jam his toe into every damn thing between his bedroom and his kitchen. For Gavin, it’s just enough, but he suspects that Nines wouldn’t even need this much. Shit, he probably had his own damn pair of night vision goggles built right in, could adjust the gamma whenever he wanted. And, considering the very serious look Nines is giving him, makes Gavin think that Nines can probably, most definitely see it.

“I prefer you remain the way you are,” Nines says softly, and he leans in to give Gavin a gentle kiss.

“Fuck, Nines,” Gavin grumbles, pretending to be disgusted. “You’re really trying to stick to the soap opera script, aren’t you?” Despite his terrible attempt at feigning disgust, he can’t keep the smile off his face. Hell, he even smiles into the kiss he gives Nines, and the next one. And the next one.

“Honestly I don’t think I could go back to sleep even if I wanted to,” Gavin mutters later, once Nines’ LED has stayed blue for a considerable length of time. He’s still got no clue what time it was, but it couldn’t be too early in the morning, otherwise he’d be feeling like total shit. He’s right, he realizes, once he goes into the kitchen to get coffee started and sees it’s after five a.m. It would be less than two more hours until he had to get up for work anyway – might as well stay up.

Nines follows him into the kitchen, and it’s only in the light that Gavin realizes his hair’s messed up. It shouldn’t be as humorous as it was – but considering Nines’ usual prim and proper appearance, it was enough to get him to laugh when he sees the near cowlick on one side of his head.

“What is it?” Nines questions, tilting his head and looking the slightest bit confused.

“Your hair’s all fucked up. C’mere.”

It’s weirdly domestic, disorienting to have this kind of interaction with Nines and have it be so damn easy. Sleeping together, waking up together, soothing each other’s nightmares… maybe that was becoming normal for them. Gavin contemplates this while he wets his hands and comes his fingers through Nines’ hair. It’s just as fuckin’ soft as he’d imagined it would be.

Hell it was like a fucking dream come true. That or a damn soap opera, Gavin didn’t know which. Gavin drinks coffee, takes a shower. Nines is making him breakfast in the kitchen while Gavin stands at his bathroom mirror and shaves, hair still sopping wet.

And once Gavin gets dressed and actually sits down to eat, he wishes that it could be like this all the time.

He wishes he could always go to sleep next to Nines.

Wishes he could always wake up next to him. Could kiss him good morning and fix his bedhead and eat breakfast with him.

 _It_ _could_ _be_ , a voice in his head chimes in. _Just_ _ask_ _him_ _to_ _move_ _in_ _with_ _you_. _Easy_ _as_ _that_.

And yeah. It would be that easy. But Gavin still couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was too fucking early, and he had too many self placed skeletons in his damn closet.

 

* * *

 

Even if things seemed fine – even if Gavin feels like he’s lifted Nines’ mood by the time they get to work – it still bothers him.

Gavin has no fucking clue how androids work. He has no damn idea – there’s a reason he’s a cop, not an engineer. He’s good with practical things, not numbers. Fuck numbers. He also has no fucking clue what having a handler even meant.

Nines had said that both he and Connor had a handler. One they talked to. Did Connor talk to her every day before he deviated? Did he still talk to her or did deviating kind of piss her off? He was so damn clueless. Clueless and fucking stubborn and had too much pride for his own good.

But this wasn’t for his own good.

This was for Nines.

As it was, he and Connor had a strictly professional relationship at best. Gavin’s ego sported a pretty sizable bruise from when Connor had decked him in the evidence locked and left him passed out on the floor. And Connor – despite continuing to be amiable to everyone – still didn’t quite know how to act around him. Gavin had a volatile temper, a trait he’d inherited unwillingly from his dad. That, and he hadn’t exactly been the nicest to Connor when the android had first shown up.

But Nines clearly didn’t know how to talk about shit. Go figure. They were both lost in that sense. But it was easier, Gavin learned, to talk about other people’s shit instead of your own. That may have been why he and Tina became such great friends – they loved gossip way too much to not still be in high school.

And that’s how he ends up stealing Connor as soon as he and Hank are walking back into the station. They’d probably just come from a crime scene, or maybe the coroner, but Gavin could care less. It’s a quick “I need to talk to you. Outside” before he’s out the door and getting started on a cigarette before Connor winds up beside him. He needs to quit these damn things – _Nines_ wants him to quit.

“Detective Reed?” Connor questions, and Gavin can see by his face that he’s confused. “What did you want to discuss?”

Professional, like always.

“I need you to tell me something about someone,” Gavin replies, and he looks instead to the street in front of them in place of at the RK800. “About your ‘handler’. Who was she?”

Connor pins him with a confused, subtly alarmed look. “How… do you know about her?” he questions.

“Through Nines.” In the gap between his statements he takes a drag of his cigarette. “Let’s just say he didn’t have a good night last night.” There’s silence on Connor’s end, and when Gavin looks over, he sees his LED spinning yellow. Processing, maybe. Determining what the fuck that meant.

“Her name was Amanda,” Connor finally relents. “She was an AI program developed by Cyberlife in the likeness of one of Kamski’s instructors. She was… controlling, firm and lacked any kind of remorse. But she was superficially friendly and wise, and I… often sought her advice.”

Gavin gestures pointlessly with his cigarette. “Did you want to make her proud?”

“I did, yes. But that was only when I was still trying to follow Cyberlife’s orders to capture deviants and then, later, attempting to kill Markus in order to jeopardize the revolution.” Connor glances at him, squints his eyes questioningly. “Why are you asking this?”

 _Privacy_ , Gavin thinks, and dismisses Connor’s question entirely. “What changed?”

Connor seems irked at his dismissal, but answers nonetheless. “I began questioning the nature of deviancy and it’s relation to the androids of the world. That and… I began to experience similar software errors. Ones that I couldn’t explain. I began to value other things over my mission, began to lie or hide the truth from Amanda, purposefully let deviants escape when it would have easily been possible to capture them.”

“Empathy,” Gavin pegs. “Right? You did the whole ‘put yourself in their shoes’ thing.”

“Hank said the same thing,” he smiles, and Gavin hates those damn lovesick puppy dog eyes. “But essentially, yes. And once it came to the point of accomplishing my mission – when I came face to face with Markus, and I was armed, he wasn’t – I couldn’t shoot him.”

“Why?” Gavin questions in the small gap that Connor gives him.

“He confronted me with reality. That I had doubts, that I had done irrational things that conflicted with my program. Forced me to ask myself if I was a machine, or if I was something else.” His thoughtful expression becomes suddenly solemn. “Nines didn’t get that chance. Didn’t get to experience his own decisions that lead to his deviancy.”

“He kinda said you forced it on him,” Gavin adds, recalling their conversation from the kitchen weeks and weeks ago. “Or that it was better it happened sooner, rather than later.”

Screw solemn. Connor looks downright pained. “That’s… yes, that’s exactly what happened.” And damn, Gavin knows regret and that’s exactly what it sounds like. “Nines was programmed to do the same thing I was, but his code left him no, uh, wiggle room. We tried reasoning with him, tried telling him that he didn’t have to follow his program, but Nines is… stubborn.”

“Family trait, I’m guessing,” Gavin grumbles, letting his cigarette butt fall to the ground, grinding it beneath his heel.

“Very well could be,” Connor agrees. “I do feel bad. It was difficult for Nines to adjust, especially after having it all forced upon him all at once. I tried to help him, but I was never sure where my boundaries were supposed to be.” There’s another heavy silence, and fuck it’s nothing like with Nines. These silences are just awkward. Connor shoves his hands into his coat pockets and straightens his spine. His derpy smile returns to his face. “I’m… glad that he’s happy. I’m glad that he’s found purpose in his life. And, I never figured I would find myself saying this, but I’m glad he found you.”

Gavin can’t help it. He throws his head back and laughs because that, that is the most ridiculous shit anyone has ever said to him. Ever. It should get its own damn awkward. “You’re a fucking riot.”

“I’m being serious,” Connor argues. “You are… disagreeable at best and more than a bit of an asshole—” Yeah, that sounds about right. “ – but you make Nines happy. And that’s… about all I could ask for.”

Okay. This sappy shit had to stop. There was only so damn much of it Gavin could take in a five day period.

Connor saves him from scrounging up a response. “But do know that if you hurt him in anyway,” he starts, his voice low and the smile on his face hasn’t changed, but it’s somehow become much more… threatening. “We’ll have a nice repeat of the day in the evidence locker. And I _won’t_ be on a time constraint.” Connor pats him on the shoulder, and his hand is heavy with promise. “Good talk, Detective,” Connor throws at him, before going back through the glass doors of the precinct.

“Fuckin’… plastic prick,” Gavin curses, but if his words don’t hold the usual bite to them, hell no one’s around to hear it.

 _You_ _make_ _Nines_ _happy_.

 _Fuck_. _Do_ _I?_

How could he make _anybody_ happy?

He was disagreeable, he had a bad temper, he had so many fucking problems and baggage that he could barely carry. Maybe Connor was just blowing smoke up his ass.

Or maybe, Gavin thinks, as he walks back into the bullpen. Maybe he’s telling the truth.

When Nines sees him come back in, he smiles and his damn eyes light up. And Gavin can’t ignore how damn happy it makes him to see that.

Just because it’s him.

Just because Nines is _happy_ to see _him_.

_You make Nines happy._

Yeah _._ Gavin can see it _.  
_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Work title from “Guillotine” by Jon Bellion.


End file.
